


You Can't Make This Up

by RocknRoll_Goddess



Category: Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknRoll_Goddess/pseuds/RocknRoll_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wants to make her laugh, wants to take that haunted look out of her eyes, even if it's just for a little while, but he doesn't have the energy to crack a joke, doesn't have the energy for a lot of things these days actually. And anyways, there's nothing that can be said really, to make it better, to make her feel less of a failure or to take away her pain, cause in the end all that matters is reality. And their realities are a bitch these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! :) What a crazy week it's been! ♥
> 
> So, this story is kinda based on Blake's new song "You can't make this up". I actually don't think that the lyrics represent how they hooked up the first time or got together or whatever you wanna call it, but that the song is more like a metaphor for how unexpected their relationship came to both of them. Regardless, i thought it'd be a fun story line to write about so here ya go! :) I also changed it from a bar to a The Voice meeting, cause Blake said they never met up in a bar, which makes sense considering they're high profile celebrities :D  
> It's probably gonna be a 3 chapter fic.
> 
> ♥

_People would say I'm lying_  
If I tried to tell 'em how we met tonight  
They'd ask how many drinks I'd had  
Cause ain't no way it all went down that right  
You waiting on somebody and they never did show  
You were pissed off, leaving, came back cause you forgot your phone  


 

Why he's currently sitting through his 50th meeting slash interview of the day, even though he feels like shit and probably looks it too, he is not sure of, but the Battle Rounds are around the corner and the The Voice producers are pissed at him enough as it is, so he relents and gives in when Carson and Pharrell beg him to not start drama and just endure it in peace so they can all get home to their families at a reasonable hour. They've all had to put up with a lot of his bad moods and passive aggressive behavior lately and he almost feels bad for them, because they really are amazing friends, but then again he doesn't feel sorry at all, because he's the one with the fucked up life and the cheating wife and the divorce that's gonna be all over every news channel in a few weeks time.

He knows if he stays here for much longer, he'll go down that road of depressing thoughts again and for the first time in a long time he can't wait to get out of here and go home, to his new rented place, not the old one that had Miranda written all over it. He'll have a couple of beer (he stopped getting shitfaced shortly after the Blind's began when Adam yelled at him because he's had enough of dragging his drunk ass to bed every night and when he discovered that Gwen, who went through hell for years and had it way worse than he could ever imagine, was keeping her shit together and fighting her way back to life, while he was still drowning in self pity) and maybe he'll order some food, even though he'd lost his appetite a while ago and then spend another restless night in his empty bed.

 

“You ok?” he hears Gwen whisper from across the table, while her foot gently nudges his. He nods briefly , giving her a small smile, because that's the only reaction he can muster at this point. Besides, she has her own problems and her own tragedy she needs to deal with and doesn't need his crap on top of it. They've had countless conversations over the last couple of months. About their broken hearts and failed marriages, about cheating exes and how they never pictured their lives taking a turn like this. Gwen had cried in his arms more times than he can count, he had wiped her tears away or gotten her drunk, listened to her sobbing about what a fucking asshole Gavin Rossdale is; had given her warm hugs and comforting kisses to her forehead. He'd been there for her through it all, since that first day he found her on the floor of her trailer bathroom, heart wrenching sobs shaking her body, make up running down her face, the pain reflecting in her eyes so intense that he almost started crying with her, because nobody had the right to hurt a beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman like Gwen. He'd had her back and she'd had his and together they formed this special, unexplainable bond that seems more fragile than ever because somehow that small line between friendship and romance becomes more and more blurry every time they see each other, every time they talk, every time they accidentally (or not) brush fingers, or lean in too close while talking or hug a little bit too long for it to be strictly platonic.

He can tell she's paying just as little attention to what's being said as he is, by the way she's biting her bottom lip deep in thoughts and tapping her foot nervously, almost as if she can't wait to finally get outta here. Gwen's eyes look especially dull and sad today, her usually warm and glowing chocolate irises emotionless, almost empty in the bright neon lights of the conference room. In this moment he would give anything to see the characteristic sparkle return to her eyes, that sparkle that seemed to have drawn him in since the beginning of season 7 when he first discovered this intense feeling of attraction and longing that seems to consume him whenever she's around, whenever they look at each other. He wants to make her laugh, wants to take that haunted look out of her eyes, even if it's just for a little while, but he doesn't have the energy to crack a joke, doesn't have the energy for a lot of things these days actually. And anyways, there's nothing that can be said really, to make it better, to make her feel less of a failure or to take away her pain, cause in the end all that matters is the reality. And their realities are a bitch these days.

 

When they are finally, _finally_ allowed to leave and everyone's scrambling out the room to rush home to their families and loved ones, he notices Gwen hanging back, staring at her phone deep in thoughts, angrily typing away with her long pink nails, letting out frustrated huffs every now and then.

“Fuck this!” In a surprising act of anger which he's not used to from her, she slams it down on the table, causing it to bounce off and carelessly land on the floor somewhere behind them.

“You wanna talk about it now or d'ya wanna implode first and call me later on?” He asks, not beating around the bush. Honesty has always been the best policy with them.

She doesn't seem the least bit faced or offended by his blunt question, rummaging through her bag for something. “I'm just having a bad day, like really really bad, like go to a Motel 6 and disappear forever bad.” The smile on her face is ironic at it's best and tone in her voice is scaring him, if he's completely honest with himself. Blake is used to her being ridiculously emotional (not that he minded, in fact he enjoyed being around someone who can wear their emotions on their sleeves and who's honest and open, no matter how hard that might be sometimes) but the resignation and numbness that seem to surround her today,worries him.

“My friend Sophie _promised_ me to come over here and take me to a bar and get me drunk and I just really needed that today, but now she's stuck finishing up a video and Gavin really screwed up and the kids are with him tonight and I just..” she trails of, taking her bag and starting to walk towards the door. “You what, Gwen?” His voice is quiet and soft and he watches her intently, trying to see what's really going on with her. “I just feel alone, Blake. I've been working so hard to try and protect my family and save whatever there was left to save and I failed. So now I'm coming back home to an empty house, without my kids or dogs or husband and it's fucking hard, y'know? I'm lonely. And the only time I don't feel like this is when I'm with you and I really shouldn't have said that out loud, I probably shouldn't even be thinking this but it's true.” She pauses, and sighs deeply. He can see her shoulders tense from where he's sitting, her back to him and he knows that she's trying to pull it together. “So that's that. I'm an emotional mess and I'm lonely. So freakin' lonely.”

He realizes then that even though they've had countless discussions about their past relationships and even though she had cried in his arms more times than he can remember and even though he feels like he knows her tragic story inside out, that he really didn't have any idea of how deep her pain is sitting, how it must cut through her heart like a knife every time her kids mention Gavin's name, how hard it must be for her to try and keep it together for their sake, while nobody's really thinking about hers.

 

“You know you can talk to me.” he pauses, then “always, Gwen”. He gives her a small reassuring smile and she looks back over her shoulder. “I know, I know.” Somehow the tone in her voice makes him doubt her words,but he'll let it slip for now. “I really do Blake, it's just.. I put you through enough of my crap and it's not like you're having it any easier than me and I'm here crying about my fucking ex again.” she's frustrated with herself now (at this point he likes to think that he knows her well enough to be able to tell when her mood shifts) and runs a trembling hand trough her curls, letting out a deep sigh. “I just need to go home and punch the wall or throw darts at his face or drink myself into a coma or something like that. Like isn't that what you've been doing? Cause you're drunk all the time and seem to deal perfectly fine so maybe I should try that too”. She's rambling now and word vomiting all over the place like she tends to do when she's nervous or angry or... well, just being Gwen and he knows she doesn't really mean it, but he can't help but feel a slight tinge of hurt at her words. She grabs her stuff then, without uttering another word and slams the door on her way out.

He knows, if it was anyone else talking to him like this he would be beyond the point of pissed and probably also hurt as hell, but she's Gwen and she has every right to be frustrated and in pain and he could never be angry at her, because she's hands down the kindest, warmest person he's ever met and she's saved him in those last few months and continues to save him a little bit more every day they spend together. So he just sits there and waits for her to come back, which she will, he's sure of that. Not just because her precious phone is still on the floor behind her chair but also because he knows that she needs someone to talk to and someone to make her laugh, and that person has always been him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_There I was, yeah I just sat down in the seat you left_  
_You walked up I said "what are you doing with your beautiful self?"_  
_You rolled your eyes but you laughed and your song came on_  
_I begged you for a dance and we danced_  
_And it was on, eyes locked, clock stopped_  
_One little kiss, no, we never meant to start falling in love_  
_Oh man, you can't make this up_

 

It's as she's made it about halfway across the parking lot that she realizes two things. One: she's been a total and utter bitch to Blake, which he clearly didn't deserve since all he's been doing these past few months was make her feel happy and save amidst all the chaos in her life. Two: her hands feel strangely useless without her phone in them.

She already feels bad for what she said to Blake not only because it's no longer true (she knows it was hard for him to stop drinking and finally deal with his feelings instead, but he did it and he'd been doing much better since then) but also because he's become so damn important to her that even the thought of hurting him with her words or actions, is causing her actual physical pain. So she turns around with a sigh and walks back into the conference room, head hanging low, looking everywhere but at him, fingers nervously fidgeting as she's trying to find the right words to fill the awkward silence surrounding them.

“What are you doing with your beautiful self?” his voice is deadly serious and her head snaps up quickly as she's looking at him in complete shock... that lasts about ten seconds until she can't help it but burst out laughing (a real one this time, a loud and full sound, with tears in her eyes and clutching her belly, not the shy little giggle she does in interviews and on TV to still look and sound appealing; nor the fake grin she'd been using for a while now, that doesn't reach her eyes and makes her feel pathetic and like she'll never be happy again) and oh god, how she'd missed this feeling of tears running down her face for a different reason than sadness and the pure joy spreading through her body. She'd expected him to be angry at her after she insulted him earlier, expected him to say something equally as hurtful or an awkward and uncomfortable silence, but _that_ she didn't see coming. “That was the worst pick up line in the history of mankind, Blake!” she chuckles, rolling her eyes while stepping closer to him. “Nah darlin', that's nothin'. I've got way worse” his smirk reaches his eyes and the dimples showing on his handsome face let her know that it's ok, that he doesn't hate her. “Besides, it made ya laugh so I don' care if it's stupid”. They share a warm smile as their eyes lock for the first time that night. The way he's looking at her now, blue eyes dark and stormy, intense gaze never wavering from hers, is making her blood stir and insides clench with something she recognizes as longing, maybe desire even and suddenly it's all becoming too much. “So uhm..” her voice is quivering and she _hates_ that she has to look away to get herself together, because holy hell she's a woman in her mid 40's and not some nervous 13 year old girl, talking to her first crush. She coughs again and hears him chuckle lowly, getting out of his seat and walking over to where she's standing. “I'm sorry, I guess. For y'know uhm what I said earlier.. about the drinking. It was mean and uncalled for and like totally not true and I'm like really sorry. You were just tyrin' to help and I was a complete bitch, so..” Blake's hand on her cheek pulls her out of her internal nervous breakdown and she jumps a little, not expecting the goosebumps that were erupting all over body, making her skin tingle and breath hitch. “Don't call yourself that. Yer amazin' and I'm not mad at ya. Relax, Gwen.” His southern drawl is quiet and soft, his expression serious, eyes still intently boring into hers before he decides to break the mood. “I may not be as pretty or smart as Sophie, but I'm sure I can get you drunk 'n help you throw darts at the bastards' face.” She can't help but laugh then and raises a daring eyebrow at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “No offense cowboy, but I don't think you and I showing up in a bar, getting wasted would be very smart.” Blake steps closer to her then, putting a warm hand on her lower back and walking them towards the door, a loop sided mischievous smirk on his face “Have faith in me, woman! Why do ya think I hang out in ma trailer all the time?”

__________________

Their conversation is stilted at first, Gwen trying her hardest not to fall back in the habit of crying about her life and Blake going out of his way to cheer her up, make her laugh and distract her from the feeling of loneliness that's been tearing her apart all day. They share a bottle of vodka and some nachos, listen to some random playlist on Blake's iPod that has her in fits of giggles when she discovers his obsession with Ghost Busters and sit closer than they probably should - legs touching, his arm around her, thumb softly stroking her shoulder and her hand absentmindedly touching his thigh when she's showing him pictures of her boys on her phone. They're having fun and she's enjoying his company and she laughs more than she has all week. But Gwen knows it won't take long for her to go down that rabbit hole of depressing thoughts again and he seems to realize the same thing as he suddenly takes her phone from her, putting it down on the couch next to them, mustering the side of her face. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” The tone of his voice is soft, so soft and concerned and colored with the slightest hint of adoration that she wants nothing more but to get lost in him, to tell him everything and to savor the feeling of being loved by someone. Before she knows it, his hand on her cheek is titling her head in his direction, making her lock eyes with him. “Trust me, Gwen. Please”.

 

So she does. She tells him about how lonely she is, how empty her house feels without her precious kids and how scared she is that said kids might hate her someday for breaking up their family. She tells him about how tired she is of picking up the millions of pieces her heart shattered into and that sometimes she thinks she will never feel whole again. He tells her that he feels the same way every morning he wakes up and finds himself alone in bed and he tells her that she's wonderful and beautiful and that she deserves so much more than Gavin ever was. When she tells him that she feels responsible for the failure her marriage was, he takes her hand in his and places chaste kisses along her knuckles. When she tells him that he's the only person she trusts these days, he squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. When she tells him “please don't break my heart”, he wipes away the tears trailing down her cheeks and smiles at her with all the love he can muster.

When he gets up abruptly and begs her to dance to one of the most corny 80's love songs, she laughs, because they're ridiculous and because she knows that something's different tonight, that they're closer somehow than they usually are, emotionally and physically, and that it probably won't take them long to cross that last small line that's keeping them from taking their relationship to the next level. He laughs right along with her, eyes clouded with something she hopes is lust, looking up and down her body (they linger a little bit too long on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder and she can't help but wonder what it would feel like if he kissed her right there, moist lips traveling across her bare skin, leaving a mark for everyone to see), trailing down the curve of her breasts until they reach her long legs, looking soft and creamy against the dark couch she's sitting on.

 

Gwen takes his hand then, more sure of herself, because the desire in his eyes is blinding her (she can't remember the last time any man has looked at her like this, especially not Gavin) and because she thinks that she's finally ready to find out if there's more to their relationship than occasional pity parties and failed marriages.

She knows that they're both slightly drunk and sad and that this is probably the worst idea they've had in a while and that eventually at least one of them will end up getting hurt, really hurt; but she also knows that they fit together perfectly and that there's something between them, a special kind of understanding and trust that she never thought was possible. So she moves in closer, winding her arms around his neck and pressing her body into his, their cheeks resting against each other. They move like this for a while, her warm breath tickling his neck, his rough hands softly stroking the bare patch of skin on her lower back exposed by her shirt; their eyes closed. Gwen can feel her blood pressure rising, a heat building up low in her stomach that she hasn't felt in a while, burning through her body like flames, making her even more aware of him and his closeness. She knows that she's playing with fire, knows that Blake wants her and needs her like no man ever did . She knows that this game they're playing might break their hearts all over again. But his hands on her feel so good and she's so desperate for him, all of him, and his neck is _right there_ and so she throws caution to the wind and nuzzles into it, placing small wet kisses on his pulse point. Her breath is hot on him and her lips are delicate and soft, oh so soft, and for a moment he doesn't know how to react. Yes, he wants this. Yes, he wants her, hell he's been hoping for this moment for ages, but he can't help but wonder what it will mean for them and their relationship if he gives in. Gwen is fragile and broken and sensible and the last thing he wants is to hurt her amidst all of the chaos in her life. So he hesitates.

 

“Blake..” his name is nothing more than a breathy sigh, rolling of her tongue and he looks at her and he knows it's over the moment their eyes lock. When their lips touch he moans and so does she, and after all the built up of the last few weeks it doesn't take them long to deepen the kiss – teeth clashing, tongues exploring, hands touching every part of their bodies, they can reach. And it's good, it's great and he's everything she's always wanted and she's so overwhelmed by the love that's oozing from him, that she can't do anything but cling to him and cling to this moment and pray that he feels the same way about her.

The kiss is over faster than she wanted it to be, but she knows as well as he does that they need to stop before crossing even more lines. His eyes are still closed, a small, blissful smile grazing his lips and she can't help but place another chaste kiss on them. “Open your eyes, baby”, her whispered words seem to pull him out of his trance and the intensity in his eyes with which he's meeting hers is almost too much for her to bear. She sees lust and desire (she wants to do a happy dance right then and there because _he wants her, he wants her, he wants her_ ), confusion, admiration and the slightest hint of love, which causes a happiness to spread through her, that she hasn't felt in years. They look at each other for a few more minutes, until he brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leans in for another short kiss that's over too soon. “Let me walk you to your car.”- a question not a demand. “Ok” - the meaning behind the simple word, so much more complex than it should be.

 

They walk to her car hand in hand, not uttering a single word, just indulging in the precious feeling of hope and the possibility of a brighter future. Together.

Blake opens her door for her and leans in, placing a small kiss on her cheek, his lips warm and soft and she wants nothing more than to feel them on her own lips again. It would be so easy to give in, to go home with him and loose herself in the feeling of his hands in her hair, bodies pressed tightly together, lips worshiping every inch of her bare skin. But she doesn't want to rush them into anything they're not ready for yet, doesn't want to break that fragile bond that's just starting to really blossom between them, doesn't want to ruin the possibility of a future together. And he seems to have gotten that memo too. “I'll talk to you tomorrow darling. Text me when you get home.” His voice is a low gravel in her ear and she closes her eyes for a second, wondering how it would sound brokenly murmured into her neck while he's buried deep insider her, or how it would sound first thing in the morning, still drowsy from sleep. His warmth is gone then, as he pulls away, and she reluctantly gets in her car, not daring to look back at him

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “God, you're beautiful”. His voice is loud like thunder in the otherwise silent car and she turns around quickly, surprise present in her face. “Ya probably don't even realize it, but sometimes like right now when ya were looking out the window, I just can't help but stare at ya cause yer so fuckin' beautiful that it takes my breath away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, here's the last chapter to that fanfic. I might consider writing a sequel though, about how their relationship developed in the following months or something like that. So if you'd like me to do that or if you have any ideas about what I could write, just let me know! :)  
> Enjoy! ♥

_"Then I walked you out to your car, it wouldn't start cause you left on your lights_   
_Then you just shook your head and laughed and said "I guess I need a ride"_   
_Then come to find out your house was just a block from mine_   
_Yeah this is one of those movie scene cool kinda things where the stars align"_

 

His lips are still tingling from their kiss and he can still feel her fingertips burning into his skin where she touched him, when he hears her call his name. Quiet, shy, almost nervous- her voice rough and breathless and he's strangely proud of the fact that he's the reason for it. When he turns to look at her, she's standing by her car, hands shoved into the pockets of her ripped jeans, her ratty black top slightly askew, showing a strip of creamy skin. Blake can't help but notice the difference in her then. She's glowing- her eyes dark and sparkly, clouded with the remains of their lust, cheeks colored in a light pink, lips swollen, hair tangled where his hands were buried minutes ago and suddenly he doesn't know how much longer he can be in her presence without loosing the last bit of his self control that's left. Her low chuckle is pulling him out of his thoughts and he'd feel embarrassed for blatantly staring if it wasn't Gwen and if she wasn't so damn tempting. “I guess I need a ride home”. It takes him a moment to process what she's saying and even when he finally does he's not sure if he understood correctly. He thought they had agreed on not taking this further tonight, on not rushing into anything they might not be ready for, on taking this step by step. “Wha- what?” he knows he sounds like an idiot and he didn't plan on stuttering, but this whole night has been overwhelming and his head is still spinning from their kisses and her touch. “I'm sorry” she's back to fidgeting with her fingers and damn, one of these days he's gonna have to make her believe that there's no reason for her to be nervous around him, that she could ask him for anything she wants and that he'd give it to her without hesitation. “It's just my car's not starting cause I'm like so dumb and probably left on the lights and I know you've done like so much for me already tonight, like you always do” she huffs out a breath at this and furrows her brows. “You know what, never mind, I'll just call a cab or something. Sorry, you should like go home and not have to deal with this.” He watches her turn around and open the door, pulling her phone out of her bag and probably looking for the number of a taxi service. It takes him a moment to react then because he's confused, quiet frankly. Two minutes ago she was all sexy and cute and the epitome of self-confidence, pressing herself against him, breathing hot kisses against his neck, letting her tongue explore his mouth and her nails run up and down his back and now she's back to being shy and uncertain, not even daring to ask him for a ride home and he's not sure what to make out of this. Because hell, if she asked him to come home with her, there's no way he'd say no, but he needs her to be sure and he needs her to know that he wants this just as much as she does and he kinda wants to go over to Gavin's place and punch him in the face for hurting her and turning her into this insecure girl she is right now.

But finally he comes up behind her, not longer able to resist the need to comfort and touch her and puts his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles he finds. He can feel more than hear her breath hitch, her whole body trembling under his touch, head slightly titling to the side and that's all the confirmation he needs. She still wants this, is still as tuned into this as he is, she just needs him to make the first move. His lips are on her in a second,softly kissing, nibbling, licking up the creamy expanse of her neck, fingers stroking over the exposed skin on her waist where her shirt is riding up. “Relax darlin', I gotcha” his breath is hot in her ear, and her eyes are closing on their own accord when his tongue makes contact with the sensitive skin underneath her ear lobe that makes her tingle all over.

__________________________________

The car ride to her house seems longer than usual. The tension palpable, air heavy with unspoken questions, hidden truths and uncertain feelings. His hand is resting on her thigh the whole time, thumb absentmindedly stroking while her's are clasped tightly in her lap. She knows this is her doing, knows that she was the one who initiated the kiss and told him without words that it's ok for them to go there. She was the one who asked him for a ride home and she would be lying to herself if she said that this was anything else than a blatant invitation to her bed. And she's not regretting it. Not at all. Her need for him and his warmth and the safety and comfort he provides too big to ignore. But she's still Gwen and she's still overwhelmed by the pain her marriage caused her, so she really shouldn't be surprised that her insecurities chose this moment to come back with vengeance. She knows she's fit for her age and knows that Blake wants her ( if the look in his eyes and his erection the size of California when they were making out earlier was any indication) but she's also wearing day old makeup that's slowly but surely coming off and smudged lipstick and her hair is a tangled mess and her whole appearance is somewhat disheveled and she can't even remember if she put on matching underwear when she left the house this morning. Maybe this would be easier if it was anyone but Blake. Maybe it would be easier if he was a mysterious stranger she met in a bar (not that she could ever pull that off or would even want to) but he's not. He's Blake, her friend, the person she confided in and trusted , who was by her side the moment her life blew up in her face and hadn't left it ever since. There are feelings there, real feelings, she knows that and is finally able to admit it, at least to herself, but doesn't that make it so much harder to just sleep with him? What if it doesn't work out, what if he realizes that he doesn't really want her after they have sex, what if this is a one time thing for him, while it's everything for her? What if she looses that one person that she's looking forward to seeing these day, that makes her happy?

“God, you're beautiful”. His voice is loud like thunder in the otherwise silent car and she turns around quickly, surprise present in her face. “Ya probably don't even realize it, but sometimes like right now when ya were looking out the window, I just can't help but stare at ya cause yer so fuckin' beautiful that it takes my breath away.” The pure honesty and admiration in his eyes and voice are too much to bear and she can't do anything but stare at him in awe. She knew that Blake found her beautiful, he didn't exactly make a secret out of that, complimented her every time he had the chance and gave her that look she can't quiet describe, whenever she came out of her dressing room, all dolled up. But the rough, breathless tone in his voice right now, and the way his hand is still stroking up and down her leg and the way his ocean blue eyes are staring right into her soul with a passion and longing she's never seen before are something else entirely. And maybe, with this one sentence he managed to make all of her worries and insecurities go away. She takes his hand in hers then and places a small kiss on the back of it, before entwining their fingers and placing them back on her thigh. “I need you Blake.” Her eyes never leaving his.

____________________________________

She's pressed against the door the minute it closes behind them, his large frame towering over her, his lips hot and insistent on hers ( a welcome change to the usually harsh and demanding kisses Gavin liked). Her arms wind around his neck, pulling his head closer, pressing her body into his, desperate for more contact. His tongue stroking hers is the best thing she's felt in forever and she can't help but moan into his mouth when she feels him slightly nibble on her bottom lip. The sensation of him so close to her, his scent and warmth surrounding her like a blanket, his hot breath on her face, his hands everywhere they can reach, puts her body on high alert and she knows she'll just die if he ever stops kissing her like this. So naturally when his lips are slowing down on hers until his kisses are merely little pecks, she lets out a frustrated huff, trying to deepen it again, because hello, how can she already be addicted to the feel of his lips against hers? And how has she ever lived without his kisses anyways? He's not having any of it though, slowing down even more until his lips are barely brushing hers, his hands on her back still, thumbs softly stroking her shirt clad skin and suddenly she realizes what he's doing- he's waiting. Waiting for a sign that this will be more than a hot make out session against her door, leaving her in control of what they're doing and the fact that he cares enough to let her set the pace and that he gives her another out even though she basically seduced him to come home with her and dragged him through her door (he clearly didn't mind by the way his hands were on her as soon as said door closed behind them), makes tears well up in her eyes. Because nobody ever cared enough. Not Tony, especially not Gavin. She breaks their kiss with a plop, panting loudly, trying to catch her breath and rests their foreheads together. Blake is equally as gone as she is, she can tell. His pupils are dilated, his usually crystal clear blue eyes now reminding her of ocean waves crashing into shore in a stormy winter's night (and it makes her want him even more because no man has ever looked at her like this, kissed her like this or made her feel the things he's making her feel), his breath coming out in short spurts on her face. Gwen locks eyes with him then and takes a step back, slowly shrugging out of her leather jacket and pushing his off of his shoulders.”I want this Blake. I want you. All of you.” That's all he needs to hear, as he rushes forward, pulling her flush against his body, his lips descending on hers once again. He kisses her with more purpose this time, knowing that she's in this and that she wants this as much as he does and if her huge bedroom eyes and parted lips aren't an even bigger turn on he's not sure what is. “Fuck, I..” he barely gets the words out of his mouth, before her lips are on his again, her tiny hands fumbling with the buttons on his flannel and there's a desperation about her that's making him harder by the second. “I need a bedroom, Gwen. Now.” For a tiny moment he's concerned this came out too strong. He knows her ex liked to demand and expect and didn't usually consider her feelings as long as he got what he wanted (not just in bed, but in general) and he doesn't want to be that person, knows that he isn't that person. But Gwen doesn't seem to care as she's pulling his shirt off of him before taking his hand and leading him upstairs.

 

______________________________________

In retrospect they'd like to say that they took their time, didn't rush anything, worshiped each other for hours until finding pleasure together. But that's not what happened. Her fingers scratching down his chest while he's lowering her to the bed almost send him over the edge, her full breasts barely covered by a red lazy bra teasing him as he's trying his best to not loose control and devour her like he wants to. Their kisses are hurried, tongues and teeth clashing. His hands are everywhere- in her hair pulling her head up to meet his in another heated kiss; on her breasts taking of her bra, rolling her plump nipples between his fingers until she's moaning and writhing beneath him; on her legs, her long creamy legs he wanted to touch all night, taking her jeans with him as he's stroking down their length. When his mouth replaces his hands on her, she's knows she's a goner. His warm, moist mouth placing tender kisses down her throat ( he's sucking at the sweet spot where her shoulder meets her neck, clearly leaving a mark for everyone to see and she has to admit that she actually likes it), along her collarbones until he reaches her breasts, taking his time bathing her nipples with his tongue while lightly holding them between his teeth. She can't do anything but grasp the cold white linen sheets and whimper, when she feels his tongue wander south, tracing the peaks and valleys of her stomach, slightly dipping into her belly button, before placing a tender kiss right above her thong. “Take off your clothes Blake, please”. Her words are rushed and barely audible amidst their panted breaths but he doesn't need to be told twice, as he shrugs out of his jeans and boxers that were barely containing his erection, before climbing back on top of her. Their lips meet in another heated kiss, tongues rasping against each other as Gwen is slowly rolling her hips upwards, seeking some kind of relief and he groans low in the back of his throat when her wet thong makes contact with his bare skin. She can feel his whole body vibrate on top of hers, can't believe how deliciously good it feels to be covered by his large frame, feeling his erection pressing into her thigh and suddenly her need for him gets so overwhelming that she can't wait another minute. “I need you. Please,please, I need you” she knows she sounds desperate and realizes that she's being hella brazen for the fact that she was incredibly insecure just an hour ago but something about the way he's looking at her with his arousal clouded eyes and touching her bare skin full of desire and love makes her throw caution to the wind, makes her live in the moment and enjoy this experience with him. With one last look at her he moves down her body again, gently taking of her red lace thong, carelessly throwing it to the side before pushing at her knees, spreading them wide open and kissing up her inner thigh, delighting in the moans and sighs that are coming out of Gwen's mouth. When she pulls him up to place a hot open mouthed kiss on his lips and wind her legs around his hips, he knows it's now or never. With one last look at her beautiful face he takes her hands, entwining their fingers as he raises them above her head and places them on the pillow cradling her. “Look at me, darlin'” Her eyes open and so does her mouth when he finally enters her, a sharp gasp escaping her that is followed by the sweetest of moans. For a moment she can't catch her breath, too overwhelmed by the feeling of him buried so deep insider her, by the tender, loving look on his face that tells her more than words ever could, by the way his eyes never once waver from hers, gauging her reaction, making sure she feels save and in control and loved. When he starts moving all her thoughts vanish into nothingness, her senses taking over, relishing the feeling of his lips on her neck, of his strong arms holding hers above her head, of her breasts pressed against his chest and of his perfectly placed thrusts that stimulate nerve ending she never knew she had. It doesn't take long for them to find a rhythm and they move together languidly, her hips raising to meet his when his thrusts get faster, their lips meeting over and over again , her hands stroking through his slightly damp curls while his hold onto her legs that are wound around his hips. When she comes undone beneath him, he holds her tight, catches her screams with his mouth whispering words of love and admiration into her ear, before going over the edge himself, groaning into her neck, holding onto her for dear life. They stay like this for a few minutes, Blake panting heavily in the crook of her neck, her hands gently stroking along his back while her eyes are shut tightly, trying to process what happened and trying to breathe at the same time. “Wow” the word comes out as a hoarse sound, barely audible as he rolls off of her, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling with glazed, arousal clouded eyes. “Yeah”. There's nothing more she can say, really, too many thoughts running through her head, too many emotions confusing her sensible delicate heart. She doesn't regret having sex with Blake, think it's the best decision she's made in a long time, actually. But that doesn't mean that's she's not scared out of her mind. Scared to look at him and maybe find disapproval or disappointment in his eyes. Scared to tell him that, as much as she tried, she can't make herself believe that this is nothing more than a one night stand or a friends with benefits kinda situation, because her feelings for him are running too deep already. Scared of rejection or hurtful words, of loosing the only person she trusted and getting her heart broken all over again. Tears are streaming down her face before she knows it and it's pathetic, really, if you think about it. Because it was her who made the decision to cross this line tonight. He gave her many outs, checked with her if this is really what she wants, made sure she felt save and in control and not like she's doing something she's not comfortable with. So if having sex with him will screw up their relationship or friendship or whatever it is (at this point she's not sure if they were ever just friends or if maybe they were always meant to be more than that) it's totally on her. And she's not sure she could live with that. His thumbs are gentle on the heated skin of her face as they wipe away her tears and when she turns her head to look at him, he's right there, laying on his side, head resting on his hand, eyes filled with concern, voice rough and nothing but a deep southern drawl “What's happenin' sweetheart? Did I do something wrong, did I hurt you?” She shakes her head no, because she can't trust her voice yet and curls up to him, resting her head on his chest, gripping him tightly. They don't say anything for a few minutes, just lay there with each other, enjoying the peace and silence you can only find late at night when the world around you is fast asleep. Finally: “I don't want to loose you.” It's all Gwen can bring herself to say at this point. There's no declaration of love or a big speech about how much he means to her and about how she thinks she would've died without him in her life. She's not asking him if he wants her just as much as she wants him or if he also misses her like crazy when they don't see each other for a couple of days in a row. But she hopes those few words are enough, hopes that he gets the loaded meaning behind them, hopes that his answer will be just as telling. Gwen feels him tighten his grip on her and place a soft, oh so soft kiss on her forehead. Then: “You won't. I promise.” She smiles then, a bright beam that reaches her eyes, her heart filling with joy and happiness and something else she hasn't felt in a long time: hope. And really, those four words are all she needed to hear.

 

_"You can’t make up a night like this_   
_You can’t make up a story like that_   
_It’s one of those_   
_How in the world did it happen_   
_Kind of things_   
_I’d never believe it_   
_If I didn’t see it girl"_

 


End file.
